Sing me Back, Take me Home
by Crazy4Moony
Summary: He thinks of all the promises they made when they were younger, and suddenly he can't even remember why he broke them in the first place - forgiving is hard, forgetting harder. But for Sirius, he'd do it. Now it's time for him to return the favour.


_Sing me Back, Take me Home_

There's music playing in the back of your head and you know it's impossible. There's grass beneath you, and you can feel it caress against your neck. Sun is hot on your skin, and the music… sounds closer than you originally anticipated. It breaks down and continues undisturbed – the music is familiar and you try to remember what the song's called. Somehow, one minute it seems important and then the next it doesn't – there's static on the radio, and that noise is even more familiar, so much even, that the part where this is impossible, hits you once more, hard.

You cannot be here.

Wood cracks and you peer one eye open. Your hand moves on its own accord and before you know it you're pushing yourself up into a sitting position. There's a crunch and another crack of wood.

The music continues playing.

When you see him sitting on the porch, feet pushing the old, white swing into motion, you immediately know.

How he will never be able to forget – how he wants to forgive. How his eyes will be pitch black when they rise to meet yours. You know.

And you think of all the promises you made when you were younger, and now you can't even remember why you broke them.

-

"_I'll just use my hands," you giggle and his hands brush over your naked flesh._

Naked_ was never this nice._

Touch_ was never this good._

"_If you want love, we'll make it," he sing-songs and you giggle again._

Love_ was never this tangible._

-

You never loved her and suddenly what you've done seems rude. You never thought about it and it was rushed and a mistake. But it's too late.

The wind rustles through the trees in the orchard and the smell of apples fills your nostrils. Nothing changed here. As soon as you saw the white house and the porch and the swing, you felt home.

Even if you being here is infinitely impossible – this has always been home. The years spent with her in another house seem like a bit bad dream. _This_, is _home_.

She is everything that opposes the idea of home, and you know it but it's too late.

You hear another crunch and the music fills the air and the swing steadily oscillates and it's creepy how peaceful it all seems. When you glance his way he's eating and apple, looking at a spider making its web against the side of the swing. You know he knows you're here – and maybe you should be grateful that he's not looking but you're not.

Slowly, you get to your feet. Your body's old and worn, but you don't feel a thing as you brush off your robe – not torn, not broke – and straighten your back.

The radio is set up on the steps and plays another tune – you walk past it, the steps creaking just like they used to, and cautiously sit down next to him, on the white pillows of the swing.

You expect him to yell.

He doesn't even look up.

-

"_The remedy, is the experience," he sings when he gets dressed, "this is a dangerous liaison."_

_Actually he never _stops_ singing._

"_I'm gonna wanna feel this way forever," he murmurs and kisses your lips – his hands instantly grab a hold of your bum as he deepens the kiss, "you were born with stars in your hair."_

_You want to feel his heart beat against yours._

"_You gotta stay forever."_

_It feels _real_._

-

"I can't explain," you say it before he can ask, because you know he wants to understand, but even you don't, "I thought that she deserved to be happy. Some part of me thought I wanted her to be happy. This way."

The apple crunches and you dare to look up. His face is old and worn, his robes not torn, not broke and you realise again. You cannot be here. Yet you are, and it's now that you need to fix this.

His eyes focus on yours and they're deep, a charcoal black, so dark they make you want to pull back in fright – but you don't. Because you love him and you haven't seen his eyes in so long – it's like coming home after years of being gone.

"I wanted her to be happy," but he's selfish and you know it, "but not if it's at the dispense of my own happiness."

You want to say that he was gone – he left you and how was that ever fair? – but instead you cover his hand with your own and he doesn't pull away. His eyes bore holes into your soul and if you could just shut them away from the world, maybe you would be able to think straight for one second. All of him is drowning your senses, _his smell his feel his look_, and it drives you insane.

You can't think of anything to say but...

"I'm sorry."

-

"_I forgive you," it's the hardest thing you've ever had to say – but for him you'll do it._

-

For him you'll do it.

-

"_I'll show you mine, if you show me yours first," __he whispers hotly in your ear and it's just a trick but you fall for it. Hard._

_He unzips your fly and your slacks fall to the floor._

"_Let's compare scars, I'll tell you who's is worst," he reveals your chest and the pale marks stand out – you hate them but he kisses them over and over again._

_He never pulls back._

"_I'll slave to the end," he works hard to make you undone._

_You come with his name on your lips._

-

"At first I was angry at you for leaving me," he says and it seems like upside-down world to you, but still, you understand – he feels like you'd left him for her, "but I think then I was just angry for you lying to yourself."

He knows you better than you do, and suddenly you feel foolish for thinking that he'd be angry. You know him so well, you are bound to be together – how could you have thought for just one second that this was going to be the end?

"I..."

You both squeeze each other's hand at the exact same time and it makes you want to smile and burst out in laughter.

"It's okay," he comforts you and deep down you know it should be the other way around.

When your lips brush together softly, you don't feel guilty or ashamed – you don't even think. The music plays and you get that you are home again, after all these years.

And home is where Sirius is.

You don't know what will happen next. You don't want to ask him if he knows – you want to sit on this swing and eat apples. You want to kiss him and make him undone.

It feels like only seconds have passed but maybe you've been dead for years.

-

"_You don't even, need to speak," he sings for you when you come home from work – always the same song._

_The radio on the steps cracks and rattles._

"_So close the blinds and shut the doors," he locks you in the bedroom when you need it – nothing, just you and his hoarse voice whispering sweet nothings._

"_Don't leave home," his arms are always around you as you sleep, and it's safety for you, no matter what, "if you're cold I'll keep you warm."_

_He never leaves you._

-

But home is where Sirius is.

* * *

**AN: Small bits of text from songs :**

**John Mayer – your body is a wonderland ('Your body is a wonder- I'll use my hands; if you want love, we'll make it')**

**Jason Mraz – the remedy ('the remedy, is the experience, this is a dangerous liaison')**

**Rise against – swing life away ('I'll show you mine, if you show me yours first; let's compare scars, I'll tell you who's worst; I'll slave to the end')**

**Dido – don't leave home ('you don't even, need to speak; so close the blinds and shut the doors; don't leave home, if you're cold I'll keep you warm')**

**AN2: I've wanted to write this for a very long time – now that my baby is dead and I need to use my mum's computer, unable to access any of my other stories because they reside inside my dead baby, I finally got the chance to write it.**


End file.
